"Aunt Martha" was a relative that lived outside Plymouth. She was my Mother's aunt and owned two farms. She was a tough but sweet lady. When I knew her, she was in her 60's. She never had any children and managing two farms was difficult.
My dad Bucky decided to talk to Martha about using some spare farm land. He was going to make a fortune in strawberries. I think he had a "seed catalog" and figured he could procure strawberry plants for almost nothing and then nuture them to produce full, ripe, scrumptions strawberries. He had calculated the yield off each plant and I really don't know how big the forture would have been but I sure we would have been filthy rich.
Bucky bought the plants.
Aunt Martha plowed up 2-3 acres of land.
Chuck and brother Jack raked all the plowed land to prepare for the planting.
Chuck and Jack planted each and every strawberry seedling plant.
Chuck and Jack nutured the plants by watering them initially to take root.
And then, as with many of the hair brained schemes concocted within our household, we waited to reap the harvest.
During the meantime, baseball season was starting and Chuck and Jack along with Coach Bucky got very busy with practices and games. The strawberries were never forgotten but it was tough to check on them because it meant a trip out to Aunt Martha's farm.
Well the weeds started to grow. Chuck and Jack did some weeding. It was a dry Spring and some of the plants got heat stroke because they weren't watered. Slowly, very slowly the strawberry plants lost their promise. There was a panic in June to salvage as many plants as possible. Water sprays. Weeding. Loving care.
We picked a some. We ate a lot. We picked some. We ate a lot.
I'm not sure we sold any strawberries for profit. Poof! Another great idea gone awry.
My Dad had the idea. He put the plan into action. He got cheap slave labor (Jack and myself). He lacked commitment and execution.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that a great idea needs to be followed by hard work. A little luck helps. We had a fortune in our grasp and just let it slip away. Alas, the story of my life! Don't let your ideas die for lack of commitment.
Love,
Dad